An Anchor in the Darkness
by Atomic Eyes
Summary: She was his anchor, in the darkness that over took him and transported him to the afterlife scene in Harry Potter with Allison and Scott. He almost expected Dumbledore to show up and tell them where the Nematon was, maybe instruct them on how the hell to beat Jennifer and the Alpha's without anyone else dying. You know with Wizardry or Wisdom or anything else.


**Title:** An Anchor in the Darkness

**Fandom:** Teen Wolf (TV)

**Character(s): **Stiles - Mentions of Lydia and Scott mostly

**Pairing: **Stiles/Lydia-ish

**Summary: **She was his anchor, in the darkness that over took him and transported him to the afterlife scene in Harry Potter with Allison and Scott. He almost expected Dumbledore to show up and tell them where the Nematon was, maybe instruct them on how the hell to beat Jennifer and the Alphas without anyone else dying. You know with Wizardry or Wisdom or anything else.

Her hands pushed him under the freezing cold water. She had small hands, dainty fingers and perfectly manicured nails. He's not sure how she kept him under when he trashed to survive – breathe. In the moment when his head slipped under the water it wasn't his life flashing before his eyes it was his father's face and then in a split second, the feeling of Lydia's lips against his.

She was his anchor, in the darkness that over took him and transported him to the afterlife scene in Harry Potter with Allison and Scott. He almost expected Dumbledore to show up and tell them where the Nematon was, maybe instruct them on how the hell to beat Jennifer and the Alpha's without anyone else dying. You know with Wizardry or Wisdom or anything else.

Stiles never thought he'd be a willing sacrifice, but for his dad – the only parent he had left – he'd do anything. They may not get along all the time, they may not even like each other lately, but it was his dad. And Scott's mom who'd been like a mom to him after his had died – he'd gripped her hands so tightly while she took her last breaths – and Chris Argent who was _really scary_ but shouldn't die.

Stiles had priorities and sometimes – depending on the situation – they shifted. Usually when there was danger his first concern was Lydia. He tended to pull her out of the way or shield her from breaking glass, pretty much whatever it took. He didn't like asking her to use her 'relationship' with another guy to help save his own life or his friends but he did it because when the stakes were life and death – you did what had to do. Even if it was watch the girl you've been in love with since pre-school with a meat-head werewolf transformer.

The thing was, Scott was his best friend – his brother but he'd learned over the years that Scott could – sort of – take care of himself. Scott was smart but sometimes he acted so dumb that Stiles couldn't fathom how he was still alive. He didn't do his research or make logical conclusions. It was _crazy_ but his best friend was always at the forefront of his mind in dangerous situations. He just had claws to contend with.

Sometimes, Stiles was just _helpless_. It wasn't like his wit repelled bullets, granted that would be awesome, but his wit didn't do that nor did it keep psychotic druids or alpha's away and it definitely didn't seem to attract the girl of his dreams. He never once regretted his decision to turn down Peter's offer of the bite – but sometimes he wished he wasn't the only regular old human. Even Lydia was _something_, a Banshee – a wailing woman. He didn't think he'd be able to process that quite yet. What did it mean?

Speaking of burning questions, why did she kiss him? Was it really because of the holding the breath thing? Or did she just have an impulse and the pure shock of it brought him out of the panic attack? She was his anchor – even Deaton saw something there – and she brought him back from the brink more than once that day.

When he walked down the hall in school and felt the overwhelming sense of darkness surround his heart in a way that made him almost trip over his feet, he thought of her. The strawberry blonde hair, perfectly manicured nails and the soft pink lips he actually now had the experience of feeling for himself – pressed warmly against his, her breath his own for just a second. She brings him back from that pain, the darkness swallowing up his chest and threatening his ability to move and breathe. Sometimes it takes longer and sometimes he needs to feel the presence of his best friend – his other anchor – to get through that darkness but it's her too. The way he knows that the way he used to idolize her was a notion of falsehoods.

Lydia Martin wasn't perfect. When she'd actually started speaking to him, growing to like him, growing to be her friend he'd come to realize he'd always loved her for the wrong reasons – her beauty and her smile. Now he loved her for her secret kindness, her laughter, her intelligence that she'd stopped hiding from the world, her no-nonsense attitude about life and the way that sometimes he could see her looking at him and really _seeing_ him.

She was an anchor in the darkness. His anchor and now he had hope, just a little bit of hope that he can always remember because he'll never forget the feel of her lips.


End file.
